Wish Upon A Star
by Darker-One-2
Summary: Have you ever wished for something so hard that it actually came tr ue? Have you ever wanted someone so badly, you'd change your life for them? Have you ever wished upon a star? Rated M for Adult Themes
1. The Wish

Have you ever wished for something so hard that it actually came true? Contemplated your dream; day and night, in the hope that your wish may just be granted. Well, I can tell you that it happens; that some times, someone upstairs, whether that be God, a collective or purely fate, listens to those in desperation and actually follows through. It is a truly magical moment, no pun intended, when you realize that all your life wishes have just come true and that your happily-ever-after is within reach.

Last year, I was a Slytherin student; happy and proud, but as with all stories that go like this, it was a girl that made my world crumble. I know it's cliché to say that you only want what you can't have, but in the case of Hermione Granger, it was all but true. I could have had the world. My father, if I'd worked hard enough, would have given me anything I desired. Slytherin girls fell at my feet.

But there are only so many times you can lie through your teeth. Telling someone who looked as ugly as Millie Bulstrode she is beautiful, or tell someone as thick as Pansy Parkinson that her wit just blows you away. However, there was no escape for the poor quality of girls that infest the Slytherin common room and, sadly, if my father ever heard of bullying, or even talking down to a woman, he would beat me silly.

Not being Slytherin was what made Hermione so attractive. Even though she was rough around the edges and a little too patronising in the first year, the moment I saw her at the Yule Ball, I knew she was something special; my perfect double. She could talk to me on the same intellectual level, battle my sarcasm with equalled intensity and drive my ambition to further myself, not just propel me higher up the food chain.

You can only imagine the internal conflict that was created for me. After all, I was Draco Malfoy, most hated Slytherin student since my father had attended, and I was proud of that. Proud of my pureblood heritage, proud of my achievements as a Slytherin and most importantly, proud of the respect that I had gained from both my father and fellow students. But on seeing Hermione's radiant face, her beautiful pink dress that completmented her body entirely and her hair, not static and manic, but beautiful, flowing and curled. Well, I realised there was something missing in my life and sadly, it was something that I could never have.

Being seen with a mudblood would only lead to instant death, something that was not high on my list of priorities. Not to mention that kissing her would go against every fibre of my being. I screamed at myself to try and stop the cravings. That it was a phase I would get over. So, for the first few months after the Yule Ball, I ignored my emotions; squashed them down till they were as small as imaginable. I even tormented her more than I normally did in the hope of pushing the image of her beautiful smile out of my head, but fate had different plans for me. Fate at already decided, no matter how dangerous the relationship was, it was a risk worth taking.

Our first encounter happened during the first week back in our fifth year. I thought that after a summer long vacation away from Hermione, I would have outgrown my infatuation with Hermione, only to find that as we brush past each other in the hall, my emotions suddenly sky rocket.

"Hey, watch it!" Hermione's books clattered on the marble floor. Her face screwed up in anger. The books had obviously been ordered so that they were easier to carry and that order now lay tangled at our feet. I had to keep my cool as all my previous emotions came rushing to the surface. So standing over her and watching meant a lack of connection and my secret covered. To be sure though, I started making filthy comments about, "this is where muggles-borns belonged, at my feet". I must have over stepped the mark, as in flash, Hermione was nose to nose with me.

I could feel her breath brushing against my skin; goose-bumps ran down my spine, even the hairs on the back of my neck stood-up. I could see her soft kissable lips purse together and still look beautiful, and those brown firey eyes, so full of passion. It was the most intense moment of my life. I couldn't hear what she was saying to me, as the blood pounding in my ears drowned it out. I had never felt like this before. Even in the presence of those beautiful girls from Beauxbatons, I was not thrown off quite so much.

Suddenly, it became apparent that Hermione had stopped yelling and that I was merely standing there, mouth open, staring at her. A smooth recovery was needed, "Whatever Granger," was all I could summon, but managed to bump her shoulder again, causing a cascade of books and my signature snigger. My shoulder, however, tingled away, begging me to go wrap my arms around her and never let go.

After a few minutes of carrying on down the hall way, I suddenly heard the sound of speedy footsteps coming up behind me. It was my moment to strike, it could only be Hermione. My suspicion was confirmed when her voice blasted down the corridor, "One step too far Malfoy! I've had enough of you; it's time to settle this." As she bounded around the corner she almost ran full pelt into me.

"Settle what?" I asked her. My question, coupled with the near on collision, threw her off. Stuttering from a moment, she found her words, "You've been stepping over the line, time and time again. I've had enough! You can either stop your childish behaviour, or I'll be force to report you."

"Fine," I stepped forward and planted a light kiss on her lips. It was impulsive, reckless and stupid. I'd never been more alive! She didn't, however, get an explanation as I just walked off after that, leaving a gob-smacked Hermione in the middle of the corridor.

Now, I have the biggest wish in the world. I wish only that I could be with her, to at least try and make it work. That would only happen though, if I was not Slytherin. If I was in Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw… even Griffindor, I could have a chance, but I don't. So I spent all day, everyday for the last four months watching, waiting, for the moment fate smiles on me. In that day, everything will change. I pray to God that it'll be soon and I'll be able to hold her in my arms.


	2. The Change

The screeching alarm was the first thing I remember; it was an alarm that my father had sent me two years ago so that I was never late for classes. It had been his when he was a Hogwarts and his fathers before that. The thing was unbearably loud and piercing, like a two year-old child throwing a tantrum, reverberating straight through my skull. Sadly, it was possibly the best gift ever given to me by my father.

My surrounding then slowly came into focus; the warm wooden, poster beds, the ancient curtains bunching around the windows, the magnificent view of woods and fields in fresh morning light that flooded in... It was about that point that my brain started to function. You couldn't have a view from a dungeon. Information erupted from my malfunctioning brain.

It was like something out of a horror movie that muggles watch. I had no control of my flailing limbs and my nose bled profusely, which it continued to do so for at least 30 minutes. But most of all, was the agonisingly horrific headache that pounded in my brain. Like some small animals had crawled in and were tearing it apart, that or, dread the thought, someone was using an unforgivable curse on me. The only reason for that would be if they'd found out. If they... knew. I prepared myself for the worse, I would have been looking down the barrel.

However, my brain then started to fell like it was being re-written as images flashed before my eyes. Though I didn't recognise them, they seemed familiar. My father beating me, my mother leaving, Pansy and Blaise taunting me, flashes of fiery red and royal blue. This life was unreal and didn't belong to me. The faster the images flashed, the worse the headache got.

Once the fit had finished, I crawled out of my bed and stumbled towards the bathroom. The dormitory, thankfully, seemed to be empty; although this contradicted my unforgivable curse theory.

Looking in the mirror, I saw a man that I didn't recognise. It wasn't the blood smeared across my face; it was the unusually long floppy blond hair that was a shade or two darker, the thinning cheekbones that had been fuller and healthier the day before, and finally, the scar that ran from my right temple to my left jaw line, hideous and a clear mark of a violent anger.

The scar made me think of the image I'd just seen of my father beating me. Anger flaring in his eyes and hatred clear for his stiff expression and body posture. The cane he carried was hoovering above his head; threatening another blow. In the corner, a boy I didn't recognise, blue and bruised. He curled into the foetal position, making himself as small as possible. The boy was clearly me.

I was confused. You would be too, if you woke up, not only to a horrific 30 minute fit, but to an unrecognisable face as well. I walked back to what I assumed was to be my bed. The uniform sitting next to it was mine, the fine silky robes, bought new every year, slipped through my fingers as they always did, my trousers still looked the same; shiny, new and pressed to perfection. Even the stitch used to hold my Hogwarts badge onto my cape looked the same. The only piece of uniform that was out of place was the slightly tattered blue and bronze tie laying on top the pile. It looked as if I had been wearing the same tie for 5 years.

Was someone playing a vile practical joke on me? Who would go to such extraordinary lengths, just to get a kick out of my pain and confusion? That was just sick. Really sick.

I decided to check out the rest of the dormitory, for clues to what had happened and see if they also contained more horrid Ravenclaw artefacts. Four other beds surrounded mine in the same way they did in the Slytherin Dormitory. Two of them were scattered with muggle items of no particular interest. Pictures containing family members, friends and outings, littered their bed-side tables. The other two were littered with similar items. Home comforts, brought to school with them, but they had a clear wizardry influence about them; floating tokens, moving pictures; nothing out of the ordinary.

One picture, however, particularly caught my eye. Picking it up, I inspected it thoroughly and found a horrifying sight. Four people were in the picture, one was the Weasley girl clinging to an average looking boy with dark brown hair. The other two had their arms around each other shoulders. Here, in this picture, I had found evidence of a youthful and happy self. He was not real and not me; beaming from ear to ear as he embraced his friend, a boy with black hair and huge dark eyes. His frame was small, even compared to my own, but it was not from starvation. The miraculous thing was the companionship that I had always yearned for was clearly shared between these two boys. I managed to identified the boy as Kevin Entwhistle; a muggle-born with a tendency to shy away from people.

Then, a realisation dawned on me, one that changed my way of thinking forever. It dawned on me that if I was able to befriend someone as shy as Kevin, and who my father would clearly disapprove of, then the thought of having, holding and loving Hermione Granger was not so unrealistic now. After 5 years, he would have gotten use to the repulsive idea of his only son befriending muggles. Although I don't think that I would ever introduce Hermione to my father, especially not as my girlfriend.

I lay back down on my bed and smiled that wonderful smile that could be identified as the same one as the one in the picture. I had found a place of peace and who would have though that it was hidden somewhere so far from the world I had been brought up in.

I also realised that something had changed my life, for better, or for worse, I could not yet tell, but something had rewritten my past so that I could change my future.

I looked across at the mirror. The scar now made perfect sense. I would have been from the anger that my father would have unleashed once he realised I was "weak and treacherous." My thin cheekbones and darker hair would be due to being held captive in a house all summer by my father. The headache was still hard to understand though, and even harder to think about, but eventually I put it down to being caused by some shift, or something along those muggle-science lines. I didn't understand it, but I knew what I must do.

The first step in my grand master plan would be learning about this world. How much had changed? Who was I now friends with, and how well was I doing at school? Did everyone hate me; the muggles because I was so pureblood, and the purebloods because I was such a traitor? The only way I was going to do that was to find my diary and hope that I was as thorough in this world as I was in my own. After a few minutes of digging through trunks and draws, I found the soft leather bound diary I was looking for and opened the cover.


	3. The Fight

_24th July 1995_

_Dear Diary,_

_Today I leave her again. I will miss her: the long wavy hair, dark chocolate melting eyes and intellect that could stump Dumbledore, even if she does use it against me. Sadly though, summer is approaching and my time at Hogwarts is up for the year. I wonder, how long can I keep this up? How long can I have half the year joyous; with friends and food and happiness, and the other half under lock and key, being told again and again how much of a disappointment I am. My father can't even look me in the eyes and my mother gave up on me years ago. Even with Harry to comfort me and confide in, I feel so alone. I miss my old life. Especially my mum. I wish it had never happened._

I put the diary down. So I was still in love with Hermione in this world. Even just from the description anyone could tell that. But I'd lost the love of my parents for the love of a girl. One who's feelings where unclear at this point. Not to mention that I'm now friends with that despicable Potter boy. It had never crossed my mind that being in love with Hermione would mean being on friendly terms with those traitors. Then again, I'm now a traitor too. This whole situation was going to take some getting use to. I now had to behave myself; no more insults, down-talking and violence towards muggles. I have to completely consume a role that I had been raised to hate. It was all too confusing. The book was placed back on the bed-side table. I lay back to try and clear my mind. Everything that I once believed to be true; the power of purebloods and the mastery they held over muggles, had been destroyed.

After a few moments, there was a ruckus outside the dormitory door. I couldn't quite make out the words, but I could tell there were raised male and female voiced. Moving towards the door, my hand reached out the pull it open. However, at the same time, a small ginger creature pushed the door and the combined action caused her to tumbled down at my feet. The argument broke for a moment. Besides the ginger girl, I was confronted by two boys. One was a red-head, but not nearly as red as the girl, with brown eyes and was built like a boulder. He was standing behind a tall boy with dark brown hair. I recognised him as the same one from the photograph. I also suddenly realised that the ginger creature at my feet was Ginny Weasley.

Instantly, I remembered my role; I had to control himself so as to act more like the person from this world. Helped Ginny up, her response was to instantly throw her arms around myself and squeeze tight, almost as if she was scared and almost as if it was an act. I was sure that in my world, Ginny and the boy with Dark-brown hair dated at one point, who's name was possibly Michael.

"How did you get in?" I asked Ginny, looking confused (and a bit choked).

"Well obviously I'm going to know how to get into the Ravenclaw common room with you as my boyfriend." She cheerfully replied. This answer completely threw me. I had not a moment earlier been reading an entry telling of my love for Hermione, and now I had small ginger creature attached to my neck. Although, the darkening of features on the other two boys was slightly amusing.

"She mine Draco, you stole her, now give her back. I know we were friends once, but I can make this a very ugly experience for you." The dark-haired boy, who I decided I was going to call Michael anyway, didn't look all that threatening, but I'm damn sure that his large friend could do some damage if he wanted, and I wasn't exactly fighting fit. What worried me more was that it was possible they we could all share the same dormitory.

Ginny, however, wasn't phased; "As I said earlier, not interested any more, and by the way, I'm not a possession, you can't just own me. That's something Draco understands," and with that, she flicked the door to with her foot.

I personally was still dumbfounded as to how the hell she got in, not to mention my newly acquired girlfriend, and I'm not quite sure that I live up to Ginny's expectations. Playing along seemed like a good idea; I didn't really want to have to explain this mornings experience to anyone just yet, nor tell Ginny that I just wasn't at all interested in her; "I'm sure I'll really enjoying your company, Ginny, but I know your breaking a million rules being here,"

"I donno what your talking about," Said Ginny playing with my shirt, which just made me more uncomfortable. She seemed completely unconcerned with the blood the shirt, and more concerned with taking it off. However, in a moment of brainlessness and passion, a moment I totally regret and totally put down to male instinct, pushed her onto the bed. The role I was playing was starting to take over. I crawled in next to her and cuddled up. We kissed and played and stared into each others eyes in a way that only love stuck teens can do. It was strange, being so close to Ginny's face meant that I could pretend that those bright brown eyes were actually the serious and chocolate ones of Hermione's.

I smiled, completely indulging myself in this fantasy, and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. Things of love and romance and passion. Things that should only ever be know by the lovers who speak them. Then, with in a second, those bright brown eyes shifted. They grew cloudy and dark. I, at this point, still in my dream like state continued to talk and didn't see the change. Somehow, I didn't even realise that Ginny was standing till a large force impact came down on my cheek. It stung like crazy, but nothing I happened felt before. It did, though, get Ginny all the attention that she wanted,

"What the hell was that for?" I yelled.

"What, you think that was fucking funny? You think that you can just call your girlfriend anything and she'll lie down and take it?"

"You've actually lost it, what the hell are you talking about?" Our voices grew louder and more intense. Tears welled in Ginny's eyes.

"I'm talking... about being called Hermione. I'm talking about how in a moment like that,... a moment that is made just for us you whisper into my ear, 'I love you Hermione, always have'"

I suddenly felt like the opening scene of that muggle movie, the one where all they can do is say; shit. I just hoped I hadn't ruined my chances with Hermione by upsetting her best friend. What the hell was I thinking, dating the best friend is the _worst _move to make. I should have just thrown her out on her arse as soon as she arrived.

"You told me you were over her, that you only had eyes for me. You told me that we could be happy. What changed Draco? What's happened to you?" I didn't say anything. I just hoped she could show herself the door. I was sure that Ginny had had enough, she didn't want to fight any more and I made it was clear that I was tired of fighting too. She sighed. "You know where to find me." With that, she left. I sighed as well, but not the heart broken one that I'd just heard, but from relief. My story was still in tact. just.

I didn't feel any great loss for Ginny and from what I'd heard, she was good at bouncing back. The more important question though, was how could someone like me, someone that was in love with Hermione end up dated her best friend? Was I still as devious in this world, or had I just gotten soft from too much time around Potter and Weasley. Reaching over to grab the diary, I opened it where I left it, determined to find out what had happened.


End file.
